200 



TUTIRA 



the countryside, for the enormous multiplication of open sheep- 

 paths that rush off" the surface water. 1 



Descending now to lower levels, the effects of stocking and 

 scour are equally noticeable : the estuary of the Waikoau will serve 

 as an example. Down this little river, in the 'sixties, my neighbour 

 the late John Mackinnon of Arapawanui conveyed his clip from wool- 

 shed to steamer in the offing a distance of a mile and a half. It 

 was carried down - stream by means of a punt capable of holding 

 several tons. The Waikoau flowed then serene and smooth between 



Estuary of Waikoau past. 



Estuary of Waikoau present. 



banks of exuberant greenery, growths top - dressed with liquefied leaf- 

 mould and highly comminuted marl mud. Of old, however high the 

 flood, except in the open course of the stream, its overlapping waters 



1 Explain it as philosophers may, the country settler soon comes to plume himself on any 

 adverse peculiarity in his environment. To belittle it is to belittle a trouble which in his heart 

 of hearts he believes only he himself is capable of enduring. A landholder in Hawke's Bay, 

 through whose property flows a river, has no need to search for trouble ; there it is at his door, 

 so much in mind that it becomes a part of himself until by some strange perverse mental- pro- 

 cess he becomes proud of its unruly ways, pleased when from time to time a wandering weed 

 inspector or trades union official falls a victim, or a bridge is carried away. No aspersion is 

 more readily resented than one cast on the dangerous depths of a ford, or the flooding 

 powers of a river. After completion of the first bridge over the Waikoau, the work was viewed 

 by a pair who knew Tutira and its weather ways. " How long do you give it ? " says one. 

 "The first decent flood," replies the other. He was not, however, perfectly correct. Only 

 the earthwork on both banks was washed away, the bridge itself remaining an island, in- 

 tact. The river's hint, however, was taken and a new span added ; yet the whole structure 

 was wrecked in 1917. Good old Waikoau ! 



